Yesterday I was out on a training walk ready for my crazy 200 mile coast-to-coast outing in July.  My walking companion is busily walking 5 miles three times a week to build her stamina for distance; I am trying to get out to walk up steep bits and in the heat of the day as, whilst I can walk the distances, these are my weaknesses.

For me, walking and thinking tend to go together - it's amazing how many engineering conumdrums or theological queries I've managed to unscramble whilst walking miles and miles.  Perhaps I should have been a peregrinato?

Anyway, as I pounded the miles across the fields, and literally forced my way through a field where the only signs of the footpath were the way marks at either end, my thoughts inevitably turned to how we use the 'journey' metaphor to talk about faith - and how a 'training' walk has no real place in that metaphor.  My thoughts rambled (how appropriate!) around the theme and an old hymn, rarely sung nowadays, came to mind (and written out below as prose as the formatting does wierd things otherwise!).

Father, hear the prayer we offer: not for ease that prayer shall be, but for strength that we may ever live our lives courageously.

Not forever in green pastures do we ask our way to be; but the steep and rugged pathways may we tread rejoicingly.

Not for ever by still waters, would we idly rest and stay, but would smite the living fountains from the rocks along our way.

Be our strength in hours of weakness, in our wanderings be our guide; through endeavour, failure, danger, Father be there at our side. 

 

This hymn seems a bit more honest and tentative than some contemporary stuff; it accepts that life can be tough and that you can end up with scratches and stings when you are walking in the way you believe you should go.  It recognises that we get things wrong - or at least that our best efforts sometimes fail - but still wants to carry on with God's help.

I might contact the local council about the state of the footpath, I will certainly have to keep up the midday hikes to get acclimatised to them, but at least it got my brain cells whirring into action!

Doctor Who and the Satan Pit was one of a few surprise recommendations in this week's Baptist Times TV guide (along with Viva Blackpool, though this one did come with a 'might offend some readers' warning).  Maybe watching Dr Who whilst ironing is not the best way to appreciate the finer points of the special effects or nuances of the story but I thought it almost, but not quite, succeeded in touching on a some ideas about faith, evil, myth and fact and even life before time.

There seemed a few mismatches - a largely 'post religious' crew and a ship's captain commending his dead crewmate to God being particularly obvious.  Yet on the whole it seemed quite a sensitive approach to its subject, and I quite liked the realisation by the Doctor that you can kill or contain a life-from but not (so easily anyway) an idea.  Probably a bit of amateur memetics going on there too.

Of course in good Dr Who fashion there was a happy ending, with good defeating evil, at least until next week, and I'm not sure that many viewers would have picked up on the more spiritual aspects of the story line, but at least it made the ironing a little less tedious!

In the meantime, beware former Casualty actors with strange characters tatooed all over their faces!  (That and Baptists who post blogs on 06/06/06!)

Today I have been reflecting a little on the events of the weekend, and enjoying the compliments while they last!

I have put togther a short PowerPoint presentation to use at our Church Meeting this Thursday (we are sooo trendy now!) with images downloaded from the web (clipart, Google, Ebay - not entirely sure about copyright status) and a few I scanned in.  Below is a version of it modified slightly to retain our anonymity (if this site allows it, please don't download and edit it to remove my alterations!).  When I tested it some of the auto animation had gone a bit awry so you may need to press the 'down' button yourself.  If you don't have broadband it's probably too big to view at a reasonable cost (sorry)

DPP_2006.2.pps

Enjoy!

Yesterday I wondered if anyone would come to our open air service, apart from our own folk, and possibly not even all of them.  I need not have done, we had a congregation of just over 50 of whom around a dozen had no known church connection.  We had a good smattering of Methodists and Anglicans and a good time was had - the sparklers sparkled, if briefly; the windmills did not collapse, though not all were functional; the doves looked great and the bubbles filled the sky!  It was a good service, people joined in, laughed, smiled and helped each other make the objects - some real community spirit.

By the end of the afternoon my already sore throat was quite painful, and I'm typing this whilst dosing myself with Beecham's, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Two highlights:

Early in the service the cattle in the next field gathered very close to the fence, pressing their noses through the gaps in the railings and looking as if they were taking in everything I said!  By the time the blessing had been pronounced, after we'd sung 'God's Spirit is in My Heart' they were nowhere to be seen - prompting comments about the fact that they'd gone to take the Good Moos to the other cattle!  Very Francis of Assisi!  It seemed to sum up the experience, we'd had fun, the cows had entertained us and the message had, to some degree anyway, been heard.

Then praise indeed from one of my people who confessed to having been sceptical about the whole undertaking, and proved wrong, and had enjoyed himself.  He worked incredibly hard all weekend and made a massive impact on the whole thing for good.  It takes a lot of courage to admit that you'd been wrong about something like this and I salute him.  My people worked hard for God, and for the local community - they should be very proud of themselves for what they've achieved and inspired for the next step in mission, as we too share the Good Moos!

I am two-thirds of the way through a very hectic weekend during which I have undertaken something like 300 chair-movements so far, with the possibility of another couple of hundred tomorrow.  I have I spent three hours solid doing face painting this afternoon!  My year as chapel steward at college trained me well for the former, I feel the latter is an important core competency for Baptist ministers missing from the current list.

The wedding went well, and, compared to the host ministers anyway, I am apparently quite normal and not too scary.  When I arrived for the walk through, he asked, quite seriously, whether my theology was suuitably 'half decent' to be in his church.  Cheeky monkey.  At least, unlike his at a mere 30 years old, my denomination has a scriptural pedigree, if you contort it slightly!  Anyway, bride, bride's parents and visiting minister arranged almost 100 chairs, tidied up and even found a cloth for the scabby table before entering into the choreography of the actual service (thanks Stuart, you taught me well).  Eeyore and Pooh went down well, and most people took away their three strands of embroidery silk to plait into a keepsake/reminder to support the new couple.

Today was our Pentecost Party - at least 200 chairs shifted (not just by me I admit) along with a few dozen tables, several gazebos, 400 scones [don't talk to me about scones!!!! More another time maybe] and various other sundries.  My people worked phenomenally hard and achieved a great event.  The whole afternoon buzzed from beginning to end and people were thrilled and curious that anyone would offer them something for free!  Some tentative links made and it'd be great to write tomorrow that some of them came to our open air service - we'll see.  As people left they were asking about next year - we even had offers from some more trade stands to come along.  It could be the start of something good.  We had a rock band, called (Sex) In the Attic who'd written five new songs specially for us and generously agreed to omit the first word for fear of upsetting the old timers, over 30 girls from a dance academy, spinning, flower arranging, card making and who knows what else.  We even managed to get the local rag to come along to report and the deputy chair of the Council to drop in.  Our mission adviser told us we needed to "make Jesus public" and I think we achieved that incarnationally today.

Now, after having my lunch? tea? supper?  (What do you call your first meal since breakfast when you eat it at 7:30?) I am, as the saying goes kn*ered, but nice ministers don't use such words - though I did to one of my tea ladies, who clearly was, and she was quite relieved to answer with a smile, 'yes, completely.'